"Bless my safety razor!" cried Mr. Damon "perhaps Ned is right!"
But he wasn't, as they learned when they had questioned the African,
who came inside the airship, looking wonderingly around at the many
strange things he saw. He was the same Tomba who had escaped the
massacre, and had taken news of the capture of his master and
mistress to the white settlement. In vain after that he had tried to
organize a band to go back with him to the rescue, but the whites in
the settlement were too few, and the natives too timid. Then Tomba,
with grief in his heart, and not wanting to live while the
missionaries whom he had come to care for very much, were captives,
he went back into the jungle, determined, if he could not help them,
that at least he would share their fate, and endeavor to be of some
service to them in their captivity.
After almost unbelievable hardships, he had found the red pygmies,
and had allowed himself to be captured by them. They rejoiced
greatly in the possession of the big black man, and for some strange
reason had not killed him. He was allowed to share the captivity of
his master and mistress.
Time went on, and the pygmies did not kill their prisoners.
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